Break Down the Walls
by heatqueen
Summary: She put her hand back on the door knob and was about to twist it when she felt a frustratingly soft and very non-ignorable brush against her arm as Galinda quietly stopped her. Then, Galinda slipped into the space between Elphaba and the door, locked it and slipped the key into her pocket.


**Break Down the Walls**

_By ~heatqueen_

**Disclaimer: Idea credited to Wickedly Hope Pancake. Thanks For the plot bunny! I hope you like what I did with it!**

She was a girl in an impenetrable fortress – she liked to believe. If Elphaba was one for self-analysis she would come to the conclusion that she was rock solid on the outside, with all her true feelings locked away. However, not being of that nature, she remained under a blanket of denial, adamant that she was hard through and through, and that there were no feelings to be hurt.

Of course, to anyone who was not Elphaba, it would be obvious that this was not the case, because everyone had thoughts and feelings whether they believed it or not. Elphaba certainly did not deny that she had thoughts: those were plentiful and even overabundant to those who were not such avid thinkers and learners. She thought of things from an objective standpoint, considering the physical and logistical aspects of an idea but never the emotional ones. Who needed love, sadness, amusement or betrayal when one had logic?

And logic took care of her day to day needs. The familiarity of routine provided her with a constant frame to work within: it included going to classes, the extra time she sat aside to study, three meals a day and a good book to wind up her evening. She had no minutes to waste on considering the things that she might be missing out on, such as forming friendships, partaking in social gatherings, dreaming about boys and, Oz forbid, styling one's hair. These things were all extras Elphaba had neither the time nor incentive for.

She did not consider that her indifference might be brought to an untimely demise. She did not consider that, as time went by, cracks would begin to form in the diamond walls encasing her self-declared non-existent soul. She did not imagine that those little cracks would soon split into deep grooves as everyone's vile treatment of her chiselled its way through the barriers and landed directly on her heart.

It came as a huge shock. One second she was fine; one insult later she had been pushed over the edge.

The insult was no more than a cheap comment regarding the nature of her unique skin. It should not have hurt more than any other cliché allusion, and certainly shouldn't have reduced her to tears, so when she found her shoulders shaking and the horrifyingly inevitable lump in her throat, she turned and ran as quickly as she could. The corridors of Crage Hall blurred as she was overcome by the instinctive flight response, and it was only as she slammed the door to her dorm behind her that she was able to gain some perspective. The walls came back into focus. Her exasperatingly beautiful roommate was within her direct line of sight.

Tears burned Elphaba's cheeks.

_Damn,_ she thought. She would have to leave, lest Galinda question her. She would have no answers, for she did not even know why she was crying herself. She put her hand back on the door knob and was about to twist it when she felt a frustratingly soft and very non-ignorable brush against her arm as Galinda quietly stopped her. Then, Galinda slipped into the space between Elphaba and the door, locked it and slipped the key into her pocket.

_Damn,_ Elphaba thought again as she caught sight of her roommate's features: Perfect lips glossed with a light shade of pink; wide eyes decorated with mascara; cheeks flushed – or was that make-up too? The thought was almost enough to cast away whatever it was Elphaba had felt from the previous insult. She could easily slip back into the sarcastic demeanour she exuded, make light of Galinda's appearance and brush off any notion that such a thing as Elphaba crying had ever happened.

Instead, she turned and headed to her bleak, bare corner of the room, the only non-pink area, and curled up on her bed. She grabbed the nearest book she could find, a text on the divergence of Animals and animals that was being studied in History class, opened it to a random page and attempted to bury herself in it. Whatever it was that had overcome her did not relent as she had hoped, but forced her to tear her eyes away from the book's pages as she shut them, fearful of crying again.

The sweet, sugary inflections of Galinda's voice seeped through her blinded vision. Two simple words, forming a question that had never been asked to her before:

'What's wrong?'

Elphaba replied, in an attempt to sound as aloof as she usually was, 'Wrong would imply that all is not right in this world and I can tell you that all is definitely as it should be.'

She was only almost correct, but failed to make the distinction between an occurrence which was typical and one which was right in nature. It did not occur to Elphaba that a typical occurrence might be wrong. Such things as the petty insults which frequented her were so usual that Elphaba could only think them a natural part of her life that she'd hardened herself against.

'I think that everything would be right if you were not crying,' Galinda responded.

Elphaba had to curse herself for being the one to teach Galinda to think more, for the strength of those words was far more than what she would have expected.

'I'm not crying.'

'Then what do you call it when your cheeks burn with bright red lines running directly from your eyelids?' Galinda said, and Elphaba was stumped for a response.

The drops of water slipped through her closed eyelids. She hung her head down, attempting to direct the flow of water away from her face, taking deep gulps of air to calm herself. The ridiculous crying did not ease. She felt stirred and trembly, like she wanted to yell and swear and break something, but reigned in her growing rage: this was not the time or place for it.

She still couldn't figure out why she felt this way.

Her silence was met with the arrival of Galinda at her bedside. The smaller girl slipped onto the bed and took Elphaba's hand in her dainty fingers. The gesture served to make the lump in Elphaba's throat grow to twice its size. She dared not say anything, lest her words tumble out in a horrific squeak. She pressed her lips together tightly, determined to hold it all in – whatever it was.

Then came another profound statement on Galinda's part, another two word phrase that changed everything with its simplicity:

'Don't hide.'

It came as another shock to Elphaba's already overwhelmed system. Her initial thought was that Galinda was being ridiculous. Had Elphaba not always confronted a situation, no matter how distressing or awkward? She recalled the night of the OzDust Ballroom, remembering Galinda's attempt to humiliate her. She hadn't backed down them, but stood in the middle of the dance floor, determined to show the world that she didn't care what anyone thought.

Now she was doing the same thing. Whatever was happening to her, she would put it to an end because she would never concede defeat to something as simple as a petty remark. Yet it wasn't so much the remark itself that lingered in her thoughts, but something far deeper within herself that was desperately trying to come out. It hid, disguised by the surface statement and the barriers erected around her emotions, pushing against her body, forcing the little water droplets from her tear ducts.

'I'm not,' she stammered, but she began to wonder: _Am I?_

Her throat loosened; her body collapsed fully onto the bed; her fingernails dug hard into the mattress and a loud sob erupted from her throat. She buried her face into her thin, meagre pillow, shaking from both the tears and the burning agony that came with them. Behind her, Galinda started to stroke her hair. Elphaba wanted to lash out and rid herself of the contact, but found herself rooted in her position with no choice but to let the blonde girl be there for her. There was something nice about the tender motion of her hands running through her scalp in repetitive patterns.

She resolved to be kinder to Galinda in the future.

She still couldn't begin to articulate what was wrong. Everything seemed so silly and superficial. What was she supposed to say, that someone called her a name as was usual in her life? She feared that she would sound as shallow as she had so frequently labelled Galinda, back in the days when their loathing was insurmountable. What a hypocrite she now was, wallowing in such trivial matters as others' silly commentaries.

Eventually, thank the Unnamed God or whichever entity (existent or non-existent) had come to her rescue, the tears finally became exhausted. She lay flat on her bed, staring at the wall. She did not dare to turn around to meet Galinda's gaze.

She said, in as indifferent a tone as she could muster, 'This never happened.'

It was a last, desperate, futile attempt at brushing off the incident. The words were feeble and would not be accepted by the blonde. Damn Galinda for wising up as the term went by. If only Elphaba could cast a spell to temporarily reduce Galinda back to the superficial socialite who wouldn't give a tick tock about Elphaba's state of mind.

This was why she didn't do friends: because, sweet Oz, they _cared,_ and Elphaba couldn't afford that.

'Like it or not, it did happen and saying otherwise will not change that.'

'I suppose,' Elphaba admitted gruffly.

'Do you want to talk about it?'

'If I wanted to talk about it do you not think I would have already said something?'

Galinda grew quiet.

'Besides,' Elphaba continued, 'what is there to speak of? I have no words for any of it.'

Thereafter, they both revelled in the silence. Elphaba did not know why Galinda elected to stay but thought that she must surely have better endeavours. She could be painting her nails, planning tomorrow's outfit or reorganising her perpetually messy shoe closet, yet Galinda sat on the bed, staring into space, not saying anything but not moving either.

Elphaba herself simply had nowhere better to be. The idea of reading had lost its appeal and it was too early for sleep. She felt as though someone had pulled a plug out of her and now she was emptied of whatever it was that had been there previously. The nature of the _it_ still eluded her. She only knew that she felt better for getting whatever _it_ was out of her system.

'Sometimes there are no words,' Galinda eventually said. She giggled lightly. 'I cry all the time and it doesn't mean anything.'

'No I imagine it wouldn't,' Elphaba quipped.

_'Elphie!_ Mean you are!'

'Well put it this way: the last time you cried is, I believe, three days ago when you couldn't find your favourite hair brush.'

'That has sentimental value! And I found it, by the way.'

'Good to know.'

'You missed my point anyway, you mean green thing. I rather get the feeling that when you cry it very definitely must mean something, else you wouldn't do it.'

'I don't cry,' Elphaba said. 'Other than just now, and no, it didn't mean anything. Call it a temporary moment of insanity.'

'I certainly will not!' Galinda huffed. She got up off the bed, tossed her hair and stood directly in front of Elphaba, who was still looking away. She brushed the dark strands of Elphaba's hair out of the way and peered down at her face. Elphaba shut her eyes, causing Galinda to emit a growl of frustration. 'Not hiding indeed. I can tell you that you are, else you would dare to look at me!'

Elphaba sighed, snapped her eyes open and scowled up at Galinda.

'Happy?'

'My happiness is not the one currently in question, but I digress. Will you now tell me what's bothering you?'

'I would prefer to go to the library and get some peace, Miss Galinda, but since I am being locked in against my will I'll settle for spending the rest of my evening in silence.'

It was unlucky that she was now facing Galinda, for she now bore witness to her roommate's features shifting. They no longer carried concern but a mix of reproachfulness and hurt, and although Elphaba had shot down unwanted persons before, for the first time in her life, she felt bad about it. She hadn't known she could feel much for Galinda at all. The tentative friendship they'd formed had been only that – tentative. Elphaba was still quite partial to ignoring the socialite, and Galinda still spent the majority of her time with the wealthy, high-calibre Gillikinese darlings, so shooting Galinda down ought to have been easy. It wasn't.

'Please don't,' Galinda softly pleaded, and Elphaba found herself with no choice but to give in.

'I apologise, my sweet. When one has never had a friend before it becomes profoundly difficult to know how to act like one.'

'Well I know how to act like one,' said Galinda in a perkier tone. 'After all, I have so many friends. Elphie, do you remember what I said about friends telling each other things? Like, secrets?'

'Unfortunately. I recall that you and Fiyero were going to be married,' Elphaba deadpanned.

'Oh, psh, that was ages ago!' Galinda exclaimed, pressing her face into her hands with embarrassment. Elphaba couldn't help but cackle, her loud laugh cutting the tension in the air. Galinda collapsed back onto Elphaba's bed, clutching onto the green girl as she was overcome with a fit of giggles. The situation was far removed from the girls' early days of loathing. It was difficult to believe that Galinda once detested touching her let alone sharing a private joke, but then, it was equally as hard for Elphaba to grasp the concept of sharing a private joke with anyone at all.

Eventually, the giggles ceased.

'You know, if you told me what was wrong, I would keep it a secret,' Galinda said.

Why oh why did Galinda have to insist, Elphaba wondered? She was now left in the predicament of knowing she had to make a response of some kind, but finding herself short of speech. She lay still, her mind empty of any words.

'Truthfully I have no idea. And don't look at me like that,' she added as Galinda started to frown.

'How in Oz can anyone not have any idea why they are crying? That is a strange notion indeed.'

'I quite agree, my sweet.'

'Well what were you doing when it happened?'

'Existing.'

Therein lay the very problem that Elphaba had blinded herself to. She would not realise until much later in life that there was a difference between existing and living. She had known existence throughout her childhood and teenage years. It had taken the form of basic survival and staying out of people's way. Her reclusive and antisocial habits were born of necessity and defence – if she kept to herself, the rest of the world would be unaffected by her oddities. She convinced herself of this, not acknowledging the real reason she cut herself off from the world: if she held no sentiment towards people, she wouldn't get hurt.

The little stings had slowly built into one agonising threshold, and Elphaba's heart was finally broken.

'Well of course you existed, everyone who's born exists! But what were you doing in that one moment? Describe it to me. With detail.'

'I was unaware this was a literacy assignment,' Elphaba snapped. 'I do not believe any sort of detail is necessary. In fact, there is no detail to be told other than that I was merely walking back to my room from the library.'

'Oh,' Galinda said. 'Well…that's not a very fun story.'

'It wasn't supposed to be.'

'But simply walking isn't something that reduces you to tears. I should think that something probably happened while said walking was being done.'

'Nothing more than the usual, my sweet. Only the same old that always occurs.'

Galinda looked odd. Her gaze shifted and she plopped onto her own bed.

'To think I was once a part of all that same old,' she sighed. 'Is that what happened? It all became too much for you?'

Elphaba stood. She no longer wished to talk. She made it as far as the door and hesitated when she remembered that Galinda had taken hostage of the key. With an irritated growl she turned back around. She pondered the idea of locking herself in the bathroom but knew it would be quite silly to become one of those girls who sat there on the toilet seat staring into space simply because she did not wish to speak to someone.

She had no choice but to admit defeat, and perched herself on the edge of her mattress.

She recalled Galinda's early treatment of her like it was yesterday. To some extent she still continued to expect the blonde to lash out with some superficial remark about her verdigris, her temper or her horribly sarcastic nature. Elphaba had never been bothered by those. She had been equally as cruel back. Only now did the value of words begin to come clear. They were, after all, what finally broke her down.

Had Galinda ever cried because of her own harsh remarks?

'Too much would imply that I couldn't handle it.'

'Well one can't be expected to handle everything. That would be ridiculous indeed.'

'I can perfectly handle myself.'

'Yes I can see that. You are quite the commotion. The very epitome of handling oneself.'

'Shut up!' Elphaba barked. 'I do not wish to discuss my personal affairs. Nor do I wish to remain locked in any longer. I would like the key returned to its proper place, Miss Galinda, and the door unlocked.'

'Hiding,' Galinda sing-songed.

'Removing myself from a situation I find uncomfortable.'

'I will return the key if that is what you truly wish, but running is not a means to a solution.'

'There is no solution,' Elphaba growled. 'My life is what it is.'

Galinda stood and went to return the key to the door's lock. The satisatisfying click of the key twisting provided Elphaba with a sense of security. She stood up to leave, then hesitated. It didn't seem right to just up and disappear after speaking to Galinda so harshly.

'My sweet, I do not wish to speak of this ever again, but I am sincerely glad that you turned out different from the masses.'

Galinda smiled. 'Me too. I will not force the issue anymore, but I will reiterate that if you ever did want to talk, I would keep it a secret.'

'I'll keep that in mind,' Elphaba replied.

She already knew that she never would confide in the girl on a personal level, but the smile on her roommate's face made her feel ever so slightly warm and safe. With one last look, she left for the sanctuary of the library where she would bury herself in a book. Perhaps in the quiet of the night she would be able to forget about the incident in its entirety. Still, she could not deny that since her spurt of tears she felt just a little bit lighter than before.


End file.
